


Spotty Sweater

by Introvert_From_Space



Series: Waves of Flowers- High School AU [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Boys In Love, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ethan is an anxious bean, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mark is A+ boyfriend material, Mild Angst, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Soft Boys, Strangers to Friends, Strangers to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, We Die Like Men, and cute, and has a frog, he works at a flower shop, love these guys, references to self harm, they are really gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:22:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24188848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvert_From_Space/pseuds/Introvert_From_Space
Summary: Boys are tough and strong, like Mark. That’s what they were supposed to be. But when Mark meets a boy in a spotty sweater, his life begins to shift, for the better.Inspired by "Boys Will Be Bugs" by Cavetown
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Series: Waves of Flowers- High School AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745797
Comments: 3
Kudos: 171





	Spotty Sweater

**Author's Note:**

> This is based around "Boys Will Be Bugs" by Cavetown, totally check that song out for a basis.
> 
> I wanted to write a story based around this song for a long time, and have been working on this on and off for a couple of weeks. That being said, I wrote this because I liked the way their dynamic worked for this AU. I do not ship them in real life, I just like the bond they have. This is a work of fiction (obviously).
> 
> ***Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts, references to self-harm, and panic attacks***

Sidelined. 

Sidelined for ten weeks, at least.

Six weeks in a cast and another four before his wrist is “strong enough to play”. He was supposed to be captain this year, he was going to take the school to the championship again.

He was going to lose the first two months of the season, he was screwed. For years he had been aiming to go and help his team win two back to back championships, just like his dad did, but Mark can kiss that goodbye. 

People were trying to cheer him up because “he can still play the other half of the season”, but it isn’t the same. He has no chance of reaching the goal he had been aiming for his entire time wrestling. He wanted to make his dad proud, two championship wins in a row. But not anymore, he was out for too long to have hope with that.

\----

Mark had been to a number of matches, but something about watching your team practice without you was strange. The entire time he was off to the side hearing drills that he couldn’t do, it was making him stir crazy. Fed up, he decided it was best to leave and go for a walk. His couch would understand, and if he didn’t, oh well, he can’t bench him.

Walking on school grounds after hours was never something Mark did, any time after school was spent in the gym. This made it fun, he walked around the sidewalk that leads to the other sports’ fields. 

It was quiet. He watched some bugs scurry down the path with him and kicked some rocks as he walked. Eventually, he rounded a corner to the football field. He assumed the football team was done practicing because he couldn’t hear anyone and from his three years of little league football Mark knew that there were no silent practices in that sport. 

As he got closer he saw the bleachers clearer. They were a silver eyesore with too much bird poop in Mark’s opinion, but they were tall and held everyone for games so it didn’t really matter. On that collection of stacked silver benches was a boy. Mark didn’t know if it was his angel or if that boy was truly standing on the other side of the top railing. Was that boy going to jump? Could you actually die from that height? The longer he thought about it the faster he walked to the field and up the bleachers.

Once at the top Mark got a better look at his fellow high schooler. He wasn’t very tall and seemed quite slender with some muscle. He was wearing a green spotted sweater that was just oversized enough to have the sleeves cover his hands. Distressed jeans were tight to his figure. He was staring down at his pure white sneakers.  
“Are… are you okay?” he wasn’t planning on sounding so unsure, he needed to be confident if he wanted to talk this man out of doing something dangerous. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the kid seemed very relaxed and his voice was very flat, normal; not what Mark was expected from a person that could easily fall to their death.

“Why are you up here?”

“Oh, I do this a lot. I’m fine really, this just gives me clarity and lets me feel for a bit,”

“You should really get down though, you could fall,” Mark paused, “If you die, you’ll never see how things get better,”

“You’re right,” He lifted his head to stare at the horizon, then turned his head over his shoulders at Mark. His expression was flat but Mark could see pain emanating from his eyes. “If you think I’m going to jump, don’t worry I’m not,” Mark felt a weight slide off his shoulders, the boy shifted a little and looked straight ahead once more, “As I said, I do this a lot, even at my old school. Normally I can get away with it without people like you stopping by to talk me out of something I wasn’t going to do,”  
With that, he came back over the railing. He looked at Mark, the two kept eye contact for what felt like forever. Before the teen broke the silence,

“Just because I want to die sometimes doesn’t mean I’m going to kill myself,” With that he descended from the bleachers, leaving Mark confused and mesmerized in a way he didn’t understand.

\----

He walked all the way home. It wasn’t far, but it was long which gave him time to think. Ethan rarely saw anyone walking around at that time, and no one had ever seen him (or they couldn’t care less, which Ethan tried not to think about). At his old school, he had a few run-ins with some kids and teachers, but none of them ever seemed as sincere as that other man. Everyone else always made it seem like they were doing it because “it’s the right thing to do”, this other student sounded as if he really just didn’t want him to die, like he cared about his life. 

Ethan wasn’t going to jump, but that kid made him not want to.

____

Entering the shop, a strong scent of lavender and vanilla filled his nose. He always loved how fragrant the building was. It always made him feel at home when he was surrounded by bright flowers and strong air freshener.  
All Ethan’s life his mom had owned a little flower shop that they lived on top of. It was right of the old town main street (not that main street meant much in a cutesy small town). Like the other building in the town, it was brick, but his mom whitewashed it a couple of years ago. 

The shop decor was mainly whites and softwood tones, allowing the flowers to be the center of attention (this was courtesy of Ethan who recommended it when they remodeled). Most of the content was on lining the wall, with a long wood table in the center displaying bigger potted flowers. There was a front desk in the back that was the same light wood as the centerpiece.

Ethan, however, pasted by all the flowers and behind the front desk to the door that opened to the staircase.

He entered his room immediately, not even bothering to say hello to his dog, Spencer, like normal.

His room was a small square and mainly empty. It was a light yellow color white trim. His bed was pushed against the far corner of the wall and had a plain white comforter. The rest of his furniture was a warm light wood. Nothing was on the carpeted floors and the walls were devoid of anything but a calendar and whiteboard over his desk in the corner across from the bed. He didn’t have a dresser, only a small closet filled with his array of clothing, mainly sweaters. Plain and simple, just how Ethan liked it. 

Walking over to his desk, he looked at the tank sitting on it. His frog, named Bug, was relaxing in a rock. At peace, like all things should be.

He went and flopped on his bed. He could easily pull out the box from under it and do little damage to his wrists, but he had been trying so hard to be clean. He had made it nearly a week, and the itching on his wrists was becoming less and less prominent, but the urge was still there. 

To stop himself he laid on top of his hands and closed his eyes, praying sleep would overtake him so he could escape reality.

\----

Mark knew the boy said he wasn’t going to kill himself, but Mark was still worried. That boy could have easily lied to him. So Mark was on his way back to the bleachers. 

Sure enough, the same kid was there, in the same spot, looking to the horizon. Mark hiked back up the bleacher and stopped at the top again.

“You’re back, most people don’t come back,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m back. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” The boy turned over his shoulder and smiled sadly. He moved over the edge, but instead of walking away, he sat down on the top stand. Mark stood there staring at him as he sat.

“You can sit too ya know,” Mark slowly moved to sit near him.

“What’s up?”

“I think I need clarification on what that means?”

“Why are you up here?” Mark turned to the kid, they made eye contact. His eyes were a beautiful type hazel, which contrasted his brown hair nicely. The other student sighed and looked at his feet, breaking the stare.

“Just gives me an awakening, makes me feel something for once. It gives me a jolt, like a wake-up call,”

“Why do you need to use this to feel?”

“If I’m being honest, it’s because I can’t show emotion,” Mark was slightly confused at that statement. “Like boys are told to be strong. You never see boys cry, and when they do all people ever tell them to do is suck it up. So I bottle up all my depression and anxiety, this gives me a reminder that I really don’t want to die, I just want to be able to let everything out,”

Mark was silent. He was right, he was so right. It had never been a problem with Mark, he was always lucky to be fairly optimistic. This other boy clearly wasn’t.

“You can talk to me,” The boy turned his head quickly. He looked confused.

“Really?”

“Consider me your therapist, but without any qualifications,” That caused a light laugh.

“I guess anything is better than ranting to my frog,” he responded. “I’m Ethan,”

“Ethan, I like it,” He smiled at Ethan, Ethan smiled back. “I’m Mark,”

“Mark,” he paused and pretended to think, “I like it,”

\----

Mark and Ethan were friends at this point, though they were still too awkward to admit it. They had been talking every day after school for at least an hour (normally longer) for nearly two weeks now. It wasn’t even “therapy” and ranting anymore, they were laughing and having a good time together.

So when Ethan quickly left the classroom looking panicked Mark instinctually wanted to help. He asked his English teacher to leave for the bathroom, which the man agreed to. Mark was unsure if it was because he knew Mark was going to help a clearly frazzled Ethan or he couldn’t care less how many people left during independent reading, but either way, Mark was out the door in seconds. 

It was obvious that Ethan wouldn’t have gone to the bathroom, Ethan had always expressed that public bathrooms made him feel too exposed to anyone seeing anything he was doing. 

Mark searched the halls, desperate to find the brown-haired boy. It wasn’t long to find him, he had spotted him huddled in the corner of a dead-end hallway. Trying not to startle him. Mark approached slowly. 

“Eth? You okay?” Despite how calm Mark tried to seem, Ethan nearly jumped out of his skin, and Mark could hear the boy's breath hitch. As he got closer he could see how much of a wreck Ethan had become. His breathing was obviously sporadic, and he was shaking uncontrollably causing him to sweat. He was curled in a ball and clawing at his legs. His mind was clearly in another place, due to the glazed look in his eyes.

Mark’s heart shattered, Ethan looked so terrified. Mark knew he was beginning to lose control. Ethan had once explained to him, that when he had an especially bad panic or anxiety attacks he would often feel like he was dying. 

“Ethan, can you look at me,” Mark was kneeling in front of him now. He only got a whimper in response. “Ethan, you need to stop clawing at yourself, you’re going to start bleeding,” Ethan whimpered again, digging his face down into his knees, “Can you try opening and closing your fists instead, if not I’m going to have to hold your wrist,” Ethan nodded slightly and squeezing his fist open and close.

“Okay keep taking deep breaths, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. This will pass,”

\----

Ethan didn’t know how to thank Mark for helping him. He didn’t expect to have Mark care so much, but if he wasn’t there Ethan knew things would have been a lot worse. 

Ethan wasn’t the best at socializing or knowing how to thank people, so they just went out of ice cream and Mark let Ethan pay, knowing that Ethan would never let go of it if he didn't do something.

\----

It had been a month of skipping out on watching practice to sit with Ethan. Mark felt as if time had flown to be where he is, four weeks into his injury. Mark could easily say that Ethan was his closest friend, which was nice considering he was never really fond of anyone on the wrestling team, which were often the only people he had time to see. 

Spending more time with Ethan and less time absorbed in wrestling had Mark even talking with some of his older friends, Tyler and Kathryn. They had been close friends until high school, where they didn’t see each other a lot and eventually stopped hanging out all together.

His world was changing, and he really liked the direction his life was heading. He felt in control and was loving what he was doing, even though he wasn’t being the wrestling, cool, jock everyone saw him as.

\---

Mark’s cast was off now, only a month until he started to practice again. When he first broke his wrist, Mark longed for the time he would be able to do sports again, but as the time drew nearer and the reality hit him he realized how badly he didn’t want to go back. He liked sitting and hanging with Ethan, it made him feel calm. Was it too cliche to say he felt that Ethan was the only person he could be normal around? Probably. Did it make it any less true? No.

Mark and Ethan were examining Mark’s very prominent tan line formed from the cast. Mark would admit it felt a little weird to be able to move it around again, and itch it freely without using a straw or something. 

“You had so many signatures on that cast,” Ethan said with a slight laugh as Mark rotated his hand around freely.

“Yeah, mostly from girls who used it as an excuse to talk to me,” they laughed together at that, “The most romantic gesture,” Mark added, only causing them to giggle more.

“Never told me you were such a ladies’ man, I thought all of those people were friends, not girls pinning after you,”

“Yeah, I’m a total ladies’ man, shame I don’t actually like girls,” With that Ethan turned swiftly to look at Mark with wide eyes.

“Really?” Mark nodded. “I always thought you were straight,” he paused and looked out over the field resting propping his head on his hand. “You know, for being gay I have the worst gaydar ever,” He laughed out.

“You’re gay too?!”

“I felt like that was kind of obvious, I mean..,” He gestured to himself.

“I guess both our gaydars are broken,”

“Can you blame me though, you are a hot, jock who had six hundred girls sign his cast. Like, do they know you’re gay?”

“They know I’m not straight, but I think some are holding on to hope I’m bi or pan,” A slight giggle came from the man next to him. “Also saying I’m hot as one of the reasons you thought I was straight is a real disservice to homosexuals everywhere,”

“To be fair, any nonheterosexual I met has never tickled my fancy,” Mark made a gagging noise at the idea of Ethan saying “tickle my fancy”. Ethan merely rolled his eyes. “, and I always like straight guys, or in this case,” he gestured again, “A guy I thought was straight,” 

Ethan stopped, going dead silent. He had called himself out. Shit. His immediate reaction was to run, run far far away and never talk to Mark again. That would work, right?

He stood up to leave, but as he tried to walk away, Mark grabbed his wrist, causing Ethan to spin around and face Mark. Their eye contact was cut short by a tug on his wrist, pulling him to Mark.

And then they were kissing. Ethan didn’t know what he expected, but it surely wasn’t as magical as this. Movies and books can talk about it all they want, and never do it justice. The kiss felt long, they did lie when they said it’s as if time froze. Mark released his wrist and put his hands on Ethan’s waist. 

They broke away, pressing their foreheads against each other. They were both breathing a little heavier.

“Wow,” Mark said, it came out breathy and sweet, like molasse. Ethan remained silent, staring into Mark's dark eyes. He is so pretty, and he just kissed me. Ethan could feel the massive smile on his face. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he stated. Mark smiled more.

“Me too,” 

\----

Days were going too fast. There was almost a week until Mark was back in the ring. He would no longer be able to sit with Ethan every day during practice time. It wouldn’t change much though, they were officially dating now and Mark was not going to break away from Ethan over an hour being taken away. They were hanging out at other times. Mark didn’t have to worry about losing him.

\----

Mark and Ethan had been sitting in comfortable silence for most of their time together. It could be seen as a waste considering that Mark had a week until this time would be taken up by wrestling, but they both enjoyed being in the presence of each other with no words needed. They both agreed that sometimes talking just to talk wasn’t really worth it. 

So they sat staring at the football field once more.

“Do you like wrestling?” Mark turned over to Ethan who was still looking over the field. The question had taken him by surprise.

Mark had been wrestling forever, it was just something he did. Maybe he didn’t always love it, and maybe he only continued it for his dad but he still enjoyed it. 

Mostly enjoyed it. Occasionally enjoyed it. 

Did he enjoy it? Or was he just convincing himself that he did? 

“I have to head out before my shift starts…,” Ethan stood up, beginning to walk away before stopping and turning to Mark, “You don’t have to do things just because you think other people want you,” he walked off towards the floral shop, leaving Mark unsure what just happened.

\-----

Mark has been gnawing at what Ethan the entire winter break. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Ethan was right. Mark had been trying to push himself to continue the sport for years, insisting he was enjoying it, but he was really trying to talk himself into each season for his family. 

He had been battling with if he wanted to do wrestling in college, holding off the discussion with his dad for eternity. Whether he should do it for his family or go and focus on what he really cared about, his major. Every dinner he thought of bringing it up, but every time he froze, panicking about what his dad’s reaction would be. 

But today is the day. They had spent most of the day planning out his college life, and so Mark could easily slip it into the conversation. 

“Dad,” Mark called out into the kitchen from his seat on the couch. He heard a hum in response. “I have another thing about college,”

“What’s up?” His dad walked into the room and sat on the other end of the couch. 

“I don’t… I don’t think I’m going to do wrestling in college,” Mark stopped there, the silence felt as if it was suffocating him. His dad didn’t talk long to respond but to Mark, it may as well have been ten years.

“If that’s what you really want, okay,” Mark had really been prepared to stand his case when his dad was going to disagree with him. He wasn’t expecting such a relaxed response.

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you don’t want to add wrestling into your college lifestyle you don’t have to. I’m not expecting you to do it for the rest of your life,” Mark felt as if the weight of a thousand worlds was lifted. 

“I do expect you to keep fit,” Mark groaned at that, flopping back into the couch.

“Ethan doesn’t have to work out, his parents don’t force him to,”

“But last time I talked with Ethan he mentioned other activities he does, like volunteering at the art center, writing for the school journal, and actually working at a job,”

“We are not pulling me being unemployed into this,” 

“Too bad, because you are going to the flower shop tomorrow to help out Ethan and his mom,”

“Dad do not tell me you and Ethan literally talked about be getting a job without me,” 

“Maybe,” Mark made a purposely over-exaggerated gasp. 

“My dad and my boyfriend are talking about me behind my back,” He was really going for the dramatics, causing his dad to stifle a laugh. He stood up shaking his head while still trying to not laugh. 

At least he could see Ethan surrounded by flowers.

\----

Working at the flower shop was calm and peaceful. Mark got to meet Ethan’s mom (He knew where Ethan got most of his personality and love of the arts from), allowing them to both say they had met each other's parents. And, god, did Ethan look cute surrounded in colorful flowers (lavender in particular) and in the green and white striped apron they all wore. 

____

Ethan is too cute sometimes. Mark had never seen someone be so kind to a bug in his life. 

It was a multichrome beetle that was climbing on some of the baby bamboo plants. Mark had spotted it and pointed it out to Ethan, asking if he should kill it. Mark shouldn’t have been surprised that Ethan didn’t want the bug to die, seeming almost offended by it. Instead, he plucked a leaf from a nearby plant and had the beetle climb onto it. 

He walked outside to one of the small flower beds and placed the leaf with the beetle inside.

“Your free little man,” his voice was higher, almost like the voice people use to talk to babies or pets.

“How do you manage to feed your pet frog?”

“Let me tell ya, it’s rough,” Ethan responded, causing both the boys to begin to laugh.  
____

“Ethan, do you still stand on the edge?” Mark turned to the man beside him. They were sitting on the top bleachers, the last day they could be together at this time. 

“No,”

“Why?”

“I found other things that make me feel,” Ethan rested his head on Mark’s shoulder. Mark welcomed the gesture, wrapping his arm around him and pulling him close. He pressed a kiss on the top of his head.

\----

Mark had been wrestling for a few weeks now. He missed Ethan, but he had come to some of his matches with Tyler and Kathryn. Ethan thought that it was too violent, which, as Mark had mentioned multiple times, was the point. Mark appreciated how Ethan would willingly watch people be beaten up just to support him though. 

They both win in the end because Mark always buys Ethan ice cream after.

\--

Ethan never enjoyed a party scene all too much, but he wasn’t going to say no to Mark asking him to the Spring Formal. So that’s how he ended up in Mark’s car in dress pants and a white button-up to get to the venue.

The venue was gorgeous. Ethan didn’t expect the school to have as big of a budget, but this school was full of surprises. The theme was super vintage and Ethan was all for that. He had always been a fan of vintage pictures for some reason. 

They didn’t really dance, both had agreed they weren’t the dancing type, but they sat and mingled with friends like Tyler and Kathryn. It was an overall great time. 

The group left an hour or two early because kids were beginning to come around offering beer. In their suits and dresses, they crammed in Mark’s used Ford and drove for twenty minutes. Unsure where they were going to go they pulled over to a parking lot and pulled up Yelp. Mini golf was their final verdict.

Were they playing mini-golf at 10? Yes, and all of them found it entertaining as hell. 

Turned out Tyler was an absolute god at minigolf, and Mark couldn’t aim for the life of him. Not being number one made Mark pouty, though Ethan was sure it was a bit, luckily a kiss from his boyfriend perked up his mood again.

\---

Mark’s backyard was a good size, though most of its space was taken up by two large willow trees. They were sitting on the small concrete patio right off the back door. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with oranges and yellows making a scene Ethan could only dream of seeing again. Make rose abruptly, holding out his hand for Ethan.

“May I have this dance,” Ethan gave an exasperated smile but shook his head. “Come on, how can you say no to dancing along with a song like this? It’s the classic Elvis love song,”

“I can’t dance, there is a reason that we didn’t dance at formal,”

“It’s only me, you can’t embarrass yourself that much,” Ethan laughed.

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of,” Mark merely eyed Ethan and raised his eyebrows. Ethan rolled his eyes, finally giving in and taking his hand.

“All you have to do is sway really,” Mark said, taking Ethan’s hand and using his other to grab his waist and pull him in. As he got more comfortable, Ethan leaned closer into Mark, letting his head rest on his chest. They sat there in silence, shifting with the music. The songs changed, but they remained rooted where they were. 

“What are we going to do when we are in college?” Ethan asked, speaking over the music.

“Ethan, we are literally going to the same college,” Mark replied, humor in his voice. 

“But we aren’t going to have classes together, an engineering major and a film major don’t go hand in hand,”

“That’s like saying that you're in high school and never going to see your younger brother in middle school because you’re are in different grades,”

“I just worry sometimes,” Ethan said, his voice being a little more serious, “Your one of the best things that ever happened to me, I don’t want to lose that,” Ethan pulled himself away from the warmth of Mark's chest and looked him in the eyes. 

“I promise you, I’m not going to lose the best thing in my life and you aren’t going to lose yours,” with that Mark leaned in for a kiss, Ethan meeting him halfway. It was soft and pure and perfect. 

Marked loved Ethan. He loved his hair, his eyes, he loved how he cared for small bugs, he loved how he was honest with his emotions. He loved everything about him, even down to his closet of spotty sweaters.

**Author's Note:**

> Did their relationship go really fast? Yes. Did I attempt to write about wrestling and broken bones, two things I have no experience with? Yes.
> 
> This is nothing great, but I'm not upset with it. I haven't written in forever, and it was nice to come back to this. Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are welcome, I'm by no means a professional writer so feel free to leave your thoughts below. I also want to do more with this AU so please comment any ideas you have for the name of the series.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Try to stay safe during this Coronavirus! Love you!


End file.
